


In The End, Only Questions

by vjs2259



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-03
Updated: 2007-02-03
Packaged: 2018-02-09 13:10:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1984194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vjs2259/pseuds/vjs2259
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Delenn is visiting ISA headquarters in Tuzanor in her 140th year. She decides to maintain her sunrise vigil on the balcony outside her old quarters, the ones she shared with John Sheridan when they lived in the facility decades before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In The End, Only Questions

**Author's Note:**

> Who are you?  
> Where are you going?  
> Why are you here?  
> What do you want?
> 
> And do you have anything worth living for?

Delenn lowered herself slowly to the stone bench near the back wall of the balcony. It was cold, with a slight wind blowing from the mountains. The sky was just starting to lighten, but she didn’t expect the air would be much warmer after sunrise. She felt the cold much more these days. “Old bones” she thought to herself, laying her stick to one side on the bench. She hardly walked at all these days, and never without the aid of her staff, or an acolyte to lean on. Still, it was important that she be alone this morning; well, every morning at this time. She knew her aides were hovering about inside, impatient to retrieve her and reassure themselves that she was still here, and still alive. She had become a living symbol more than a living person.

 

The hardest thing about old age was the lack of time to be alone, truly alone, with her thoughts and her memories, without the interruption, reverent care, or adoration of those around her. She lived in isolation, but her position, her history, her status in Minbari society kept her hemmed in with…what was it Londo had said? “We all have our Keepers.” How right he had been.

 

Still they gave her these few moments apart each morning, and that was enough. And it was so good to be back here, where John’s spirit remained strong; his words and footsteps seemed engraven in the very walls. It was easier to connect with him here.

She was never sure whether what she felt was “real” or a product of her still-aching heart. It didn’t really matter, as long as each morning’s contact eased the pain of another day apart. She sighed, and looked towards the mountains as the first rays of the sun began to break over the peaks.

 

She heard movement, a rustling sound to her left. One of the acolytes become bold? Perhaps David had decided to join her; although he had never intruded before. She turned her head to see a tall encounter-suited figure. The iris in the helmet dilated, and a low voice intoned: “Who are you?”

 

_In Valen’s name_ , she thought, _a Vorlon, but how?_

 

“What did you say?” she managed to reply.

 

“Who are you?” the Vorlon repeated, this time sounding slightly impatient.

 

“Kosh,” Delenn gasped as she recognized the voice, “but you’re gone. You’re dead. I saw the last part of you die…..you flew into the sun!”

 

“I… was Kosh. Who are you?” once again the figure spoke as it moved closer.

 

“I am Delenn, Kosh. Do you not know me?” she replied.

 

“Delenn….Delenn." He seemed to think it over. "I knew one such as you. You were the song. He was the word." Abruptly the Vorlon demanded, "Rise. Accompany me.”

 

Delenn struggled to rise. In her agitation she had knocked her stick to the ground. She bent to retrieve it, grasped it, and stood.

 

“Now you are Delenn,” said Kosh. And as she looked down she realized that she was standing, straight and upright, without aid. The aches and pains that had become her everyday companions had vanished. Instead of her white religious caste robes, she was wearing her formal ambassadorial garb from her time on Babylon 5. She turned to lay her unneeded stick on the bench, and froze, as she saw herself, slumped to one side, lying still on the cold stone.

 

“Kosh, am I dead?” she asked, in a whisper. “Is that why you are here? Are we both dead? Are you come to take me to the land where no shadows fall?”

 

“Come,” Kosh replied, and there was a blinding flash of light.

 

Delenn looked about her. She was in the corridor leading to the main temple in the capital. Seated about halfway down, on a bench, was a figure draped in the hooded robes of Entil’zha. Kosh was gone. She walked slowly towards the figure, her footsteps echoing on the stone walkways in the silence. There was no one else there; no bustling acolytes, no Rangers hurrying on their errands, no Minbari, none of the other races, no one but the silent figure she approached. As she neared, the figure spoke:

 

“Where are you going?” it asked in a solemn tone, but with a hint of underlying amusement.

 

“Sinclair? Old friend, is that you? Is this the past then? Where is everyone?” Delenn asked.

 

“They are where they have always been, Delenn. They are where they should be. Where are you going?” repeated Sinclair.

 

“I think I am dead, Jeffrey. And as I know you are dead, perhaps you can explain it to me! Perhaps I am alive but mad, or hallucinating as I lay dying! Why should I be going anywhere?” she exclaimed in rising panic.

 

“You haven’t answered the question, Delenn. Where are you going?” insisted Sinclair.

 

Calming under his friendly scrutiny, she answered “Where I am sent, I imagine. I do not seem to be choosing my path. Are you to take me on the next step of this journey?” queried Delenn.

 

“No, I cannot accompany you further. But I suggest you consider your answers carefully. There are more important questions to come. Walk with me.” Sinclair rose and Delenn fell in beside him. There was another flash, and she was walking, now alone, along a corridor in Babylon 5, heading towards the ambassadorial wing. The memories were flooding in fast now; the years she had spent here were rife with emotion. Here the Soul Hunter had captured her; here she had undergone her transformation using Valen’s chrysalis device; here she had met John for the second time…..so many friends, allies, enemies; so many battles, defeats, victories; so much pain, joy, loss, and love.

 

“Hello Delenn,” a soft voice said from behind her. “Why are you here?”

 

Delenn stiffened at the familiar sound, and slowly turned, “Lennier?” her voice quavered and rose, “Lennier, is that really you?” She reached out to touch his face, but he retreated, and gave a respectful bow. “Delenn, why are you here?”

 

“I don’t know, Lennier, I don’t know! Everyone keeps asking me questions and I have no answers! I was on Minbar, watching the sun rise, then I am here…I saw this station destroyed, Lennier! I know this cannot be real! Is this some form of torment--to show me people and places I have loved and lost? To show me things I can never have again? Why are you doing this to me? Is it a punishment for the errors I made in life? Is there more atonement demanded for my mistakes?” She cried out the words in frustration and mounting fear.

 

They had stopped in front of her quarters. Lennier paused and spoke once more. “Go through the door, Delenn, and be careful what you wish for.” He briefly smiled. “And remember, faith manages.”

 

Delenn walked through the now open door, and there was a flash as it closed behind her.

 

She walked out onto the main deck of a White Star. It was operating on automatic pilot, and seemed to be in orbit around a planet. She went to the controls to bring up a map of where the ship was in space, although she thought she already knew. She was right; they were orbiting Corianus 6; the sector where she and John had defeated the Shadows and the Vorlons, and where John had disappeared decades before. His ship had been discovered abandoned, circling the planet below. His body was never found. An Arthurian type legend had sprung up among some on Minbar, that Sheridan was not dead, but had removed himself from this place to await a time when he would be needed again. She had never encouraged this myth. For one thing she thought it would harm David should he hear of it, or Valen forbid, come to believe it. For another, she and John had always felt that the Alliance, the Rangers, all that they had built, had to be strong enough to outlive them, or they would have failed.

 

She heard the click of a staff hitting the deck, and wheeled to see Lorien, laughing softly at her consternation. She swallowed hard. “Is this where John died then, Lorien? I always wondered, was anyone with him? Did he die alone, with only the stars for company?”

 

Lorien looked at her with infinite compassion and said, “What do you want, my child?”

 

Delenn stopped and considered carefully. She knew what she wanted, but was unsure it was appropriate to ask, or even possible to have. Her caution made her hesitate, and Lorien repeated, “Delenn, what do you want? Do you have anything to live for?”

 

Delenn struggled to put her feelings into words, “I have nothing left to live for, Lorien. My love is dead. My son is grown, with children and grandchildren of his own. I have outlived my friends and most of my enemies. The Alliance that John and I built endures, but I add nothing to it except as a symbol and a legend. Most believe I died years ago. What do I want? I want John, Lorien. I want him with me; I want to be with him. Here, beyond the Rim, in the land where no Shadows fall, anywhere. For a heartbeat or for eternity, whatever is allowed. To see him, touch him, feel his embrace, hear his voice—that is all I want and have ever wanted. I am tired, Lorien, and I want to go home. And John Sheridan is my only home.”

 

“I am here, my love. I have always been here.”

 

Delenn closed her eyes and swayed slightly at the sound of that familiar voice. “John,” she said quietly, like a prayer, and turned. He stood in front of the main viewscreen, in the uniform she had designed for him and the command staff of the army of light. He stood straight and tall, with a soft light shining around him. His face was in shadow. “John, is it really you? Can it be…” her voice faltered and broke, as she stepped towards him, trembling, with one hand outstretched. He strode forward, grasped her outstretched hand, and pulled her into a tight embrace. “I said I would never leave you Delenn, not if the whole universe stood between us. Will you come with me beyond the Rim? It will not be as it was, but I promise we will be together.”

 

She reached up to touch his face and replied “Yes, John, I will go.” Laughter bubbled up through her tears. “Do not dare to leave me behind again!” There was a blinding flash, and all that remained was the sound of Lorien’s soft murmur of approval.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first piece of fanfiction I ever wrote. I finished it in late fall 2006 and found my way to LiveJournal in February of the next year.


End file.
